While You Were Sleeping
by sardawn
Summary: Severus Snape is in a coma,has been for six months since the war ended and it is up to Hermione to save him. What she doesn't know is what awaits her in the process.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The usual disclaimer applies.

Chapter 1

The room was white, too white. Instinctively she knew that Severus Snape wouldn't want to be caught dead in a room this bright. No matter how tight you shut the curtains, the light reflected throughout and slightly burned your eyes, causing you to have to blink way more than was necessary. How anyone could heal there, let along be there for any period of time was beyond her. Maybe it was a small tug of guilt that was the true cause for her being so uncomfortable in her surroundings, but it was hard to tell. It had been six months. Six long months since the fall of Voldemort and even though the mediwizards had done virtually everything in their power, Snape would not wake up. But, he was alive.

"Stubborn, even in death," Minerva chuckled, giving his hand a small squeeze. She wish he would wake up, yell at her for believing him to have betrayed them, tell her she was forgiven. She wanted the guilt to go away. Oh, she knew that he would never say the words "I forgive you". She didn't even know he knew the words. But, he would, possibly, maybe sneer at her and call her a fool. Tell her he has never met someone so blind and then stomp off only to continue on as they were before. Bickering and betting on Quidditch games while playing the occasional game of chess.

They had told her they didn't know what to do next. Had said that it would probably be best to "pull the plug" as it were. He was only continuing to survive from their daily dosage of potions and anti-venoms. He was getting costly, they had told her in their round-about way. It didn't matter that he was a hero, that she knew she had to do _something_. After she had pleaded, practically got down on the floor and begged, they had told her they would give him another two weeks. _Two Weeks_. After that, it wouldn't matter what she did because Severus Snape would be dead. Actually dead. They would stop all doses and just let him die.

No matter what, Minerva knew that was not an option.

XX

Minerva sat back in her headmistress chair, anticipating a knock on the door. It was 10 'o clock on a Monday. Normally nothing special happened on Monday evenings. She would go to dinner and eat while watching over the Great Hall. Small talk would be made with all of the other professors. She wouldn't normally have been shaking her leg under the table throughout the entire meal, causing a mild earthquake effect on the dinnerware by the time it got down to Professor Hooch. After dinner she might do some light reading, have a professor or two come to her for advice on a particularly difficult pupil. Usually she would retire by 9:30, knowing that she would need to be up by six.

Not today. Today was the closing of the Death Eater trials. Most were open and shut cases. It hadn't taken long for the jury to be out on the likes of Lucius Malfoy. The problem was the trial for Severus. It seemed as though the Wizengamont was not ready to accept the label of "hero" that Harry Potter was trying to perpetuate. Minerva had tried to make them wait until he was awake, healthy even. They wouldn't hear of it. There was too much chance that he _wouldn't_ wake up in the first place. Maybe it was better this way, anyway. It wouldn't do to have Snape wake up, only to be sentenced to Azkaban. That is why, she told herself, that she wasn't doing _all _she could to wake him from this coma. But, if he was declared innocent, and he had to be declared innocent, she would do what needed to be done.

Or have Hermione Granger do what had to be done, anyway. No, she could not afford to leave Hogwarts for that time. Miss Granger had been the front runner in the "Free Severus Snape" cause. She had lined up all the points for his case and presented it to the Wizengamont. She had dedicated her entire six months after the war to him. Mr. Potter had helped significantly. Even his name endorsing a not-guilty verdict had its sway, but it was not enough. Minerva chuckled at the thought of what Severus would think if he knew that he had become Miss Granger's new pet project. He would probably make some sarcastic comment of how well SPEW had turned out.

Oh, how she missed him. But maybe that was the guilt talking.

A loud knock on the door startled her from her reverie. "Come in Mr. Potter," she called. The door started to open, but before Harry could step through, Hermione burst past him. She practically beamed as she ran up to the Headmistress' desk.

"We did it!" she crowed, clutching the front of the desk and leaning in.

Minerva looked to Harry for confirmation, and saw the gleam in his eye as he nodded his head slowly.

"I really didn't think they would come back in acquittal. They all looked so bored with the evidence of his innocence. Even when they saw the pensieve memories, they didn't look phased. How much more proof would they need? All I kept hearing was their comments in my head 'the victim asking Snape to murder him is not a defence for murder' and 'As the defendant is not here to confirm that statement...'. I don't - "

"I think in the end it was the fact that the head mediwizard testified that the chances of Snape waking up are practically non-existent," Harry interrupted.

Minerva knew exactly what he meant. It was a lot easier to acquit a dead man, than one walking the streets. She would just have to make sure that he woke up. She would have to make sure Miss Granger agreed.

"Thank-you for notifying me so promptly," she swallowed before continuing. "I just could not get away from Hogwarts..." she smiled. She couldn't help but think that it wasn't the fact that she couldn't leave, but that she couldn't be there. How could she expect him to be proven not guilty when she had so adamantly believed him to be guilty?

"We understand, Professor McGonagall," Hermione smiled, giving her a pat on the arm. "I am just so... relieved. I know the chance of his survival is slim, but at least now that everyone knows of his innocence...I just hope that now he can have some peace," she said softly.

"Actually, Miss Granger," Minerva begun, clearing her throat, "I think I have a solution to wake him from his coma."

"What?" she was close to shrieking. "All this time, and you didn't tell us?" She whipped around to look at Harry, to see the indignation on his face as well, but there was none. She knew then that the only person who did not know was her.

"What was the point of waking him up, just for him to be sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss?" Harry asked.

"Do you know how many times I had wished I could have just asked him to clarify a point, or had hoped to ask him how he would have wanted me to proceed?" She was close to tears. All this time she had worked so hard on his case, making sure to do everything she could to hear those words "Not Guilty". She had tucked the fact that he likely would never hear those words himself away in a very dark corner. She had never liked the man, had always thought him spiteful and hurtful above all. She had never questioned his betrayal, believed him to be on Voldemort's side, as much as anyone else. That pang of guilt tugged at her heart, as it was so apt to do.

"I will need your help, Miss Granger," Minerva sighed. "I know you have already sacrificed so much of yourself on this trial. But if I can just ask for one last –"

"I'll do it," Hermione interrupted. It wouldn't matter what it was; this was her chance. She had thought that once she had proved Professor Snape's innocence to the Wizengamont she would feel free of guilt. But it was still there. Maybe, just maybe, if she gave him his life back she would be complete. Then he could go on to terrorize students, and she could figure out just what it was she actually wanted to do with her life.

"Hear me out first," Minerva said, "take a seat." Both Harry and Hermione sat down. It was obvious that Harry already knew what had to be done. Inwardly, Hermione was relieved that he hadn't told her. If she knew that something could have been done her focus on the trial would have been all wrong. All wrong.

"There is a potion," Minerva began.

"The Somnum Inagitatus," Hermione couldn't help interjecting. "But that takes 5 years to brew."

"I am well aware of that, Miss Granger," Minerva tried her hardest not to be annoyed by the interruption. She wasn't aware that the girl would know of the potion, it was well beyond what her potions classes had taught her, and had taken Minerva many sleepless nights of research to find.

"It also would take a potions master to brew..."Hermione mumbled, well aware that it was the potions master himself in the coma. She had taken both of those thoughts into account when she had found the potion in her research months ago. Even if she was successful at brewing the potion, St. Mungo's would not allow the coma to go for that long. Even if they would, the chance of him retaining his brain function after being in a coma for that amount of time was highly unlikely.

"Well, we don't have a potions master," Minerva huffed, "But we can still try. Severus always hated to admit that you were the most promising student in potions since himself."

"He said that?" Hermione's eyes were wide. She had always looked for praise in his classes, but never even got a hint of it, to her chagrin.

"Not in so many words..." Minerva said slowly, tilting her head at the girl. Her focus was all wrong. Maybe she was asking the wrong person. Maybe Mr. Potter was the better choice. But no, Mr. Potter himself said he was abysmal at potion brewing, and there was no one more tenacious than Miss Granger.

Hermione bowed her head in embarrassment and waited for Professor McGonagall to continue.

"If you were to brew the potion, and put it in the stasis required, and then use the time turner..."

Hermione's head shot up. She wouldn't be suggesting... She couldn't be suggesting...

"But all the time turners were destroyed. And even if they weren't, I thought they could only go back in time. Besides that, I am sure that going into the future, just as going back to change the past, would be highly illegal..."

"Hermione," Harry groaned.

"Yes, most of them were destroyed. However, this time turner belonged specifically to Albus Dumbledore and was kept safe on his person at all times. He never said whether or not he used the thing, but when he left it to me in his will, he specifically stated that it was only to be used 'if all was lost'. You have no idea how many times I wanted to use it to go back to the time of his death..." Minerva needed to clear her throat to continue. Dumbledore's death was always a hard point for her, and she didn't think it would ever not be.

"He left me one too," Harry piped in, clearing his throat, and Minerva nodded to him. She had known that Albus had left one to each of them, hoping to cover all bases. He had known that failure was not an option. The fact that Mr. Potter had refrained from using it all this time had only shown how much he had matured. Wars did that to people.

Hermione's head whipped to face Harry. "You never told me he gave you a time turner!" she almost gasped.

"He told me not to tell anyone," he replied sheepishly. He hoped she understood, and she did. Sometimes there were things you couldn't tell even the best of friends. After a friendly smile, both Harry and Hermione turned back to McGonagall.

"This one happens to have the ability to go forward in time," Minerva continued "Although I am not sure how or why, I can understand why they would normally not be created that way. I do feel safe in its use however, since we are not using it to alter the past or the future, but to save a life in the present. All you would be required to do, Miss Granger, is to brew the potion, go five years into the future, finish the last stages of the potion and then bring it back into our time. If you are successful... Well, I would be very pleased if you would agree to..."

"I already said I would do it." Hermione's mouth was in a firm line. She knew what she needed to do. The initial brewing process would take 4 days, and then once in the future she would need another five to finish the brewing. Add in the time to gather the ingredients and she would be back just in time to deliver the potion before St. Mungo's gave him the boot. Then she would just have to see if it actually worked. She wasn't joking when she said it required a potions master.

Minerva broke into a smile. "Good," she said. "Here is the potions book for reference. You can put all of the ingredients on the Hogwarts tab. If there is anything else you require, you should come to me immediately. We are on a short time line, Miss Granger. It is imperative that we do this quickly, and efficiently."

"Where shall I do the brewing, Professor?" Hermione asked, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. She could brew it in the potions lab, but then they would have to explain the whole situation to Professor Slughorn, which wasn't a very good idea. She would need to make sure it was in a place easily accessible, where she wouldn't be caught by anyone in the future.

"You will need to do the brewing here," McGonagall informed, giving a look of apology. "We cannot risk anyone knowing of your trip to the future, other than the three of us. If, once you go to the future, you can make it up to my office and finish the potion, that would be best."

Yes, that would be best, Hermione thought to herself. She could stay in the Headmistress' office for the entirety of her stay and no one would have to know. Although, what if...

"What if you are no longer the Headmistress?" Hermione blushed, "Not that you wouldn't be...but things can happen in five years...What if you retire?"

Minerva gave a small, understanding smile. "I understand what you are getting at, Miss Granger, but I do not plan on going anywhere in these next five years. And, if for any reason it is not me that you meet in the future, I would hope that it would be someone else equally understanding. I would like to think that whoever the Headmaster of this school is, they would be helpful. And if not," Minerva gave a grim smile, "you will need to come back as soon as possible."

Hermione nodded her head, and then looked over at Harry who she had nearly forgotten about. This reminded her about someone else she had nearly forgotten about.

"What about Ron?" she asked, more to the headmistress than to Harry.

"Pardon?" Minerva responded, more than a little confused about what Ronald Weasley had to do about this.

"Can Ron know?" Hermione rephrased, looking hopeful. She knew that this was not something that the majority of the wizarding world could know about, but surely she could tell Ron. He was after all, her boyfriend. And he was already quite angry with her for spending all of her time focused on the trial. She didn't know how he would handle her keeping a secret from him.

"I am afraid not, Miss Granger," McGonagall sighed. She knew it would be hard for Hermione to keep this from him, but it was imperative to keep this between as few people as possible. Besides that, she knew Ron wasn't all for the 'Save Severus' initiative. She had heard them quarrel about it a few times on the occasion she went over to Miss Granger's flat to hear what progress she had made towards Snape's defence. Now that the trial was over, he would probably expect her to be able to go on his Quidditch tour with him and the Chudley Cannons. Even if all of this wasn't necessary, and Miss Granger was free to pursue whatever she so desired, Minerva hoped that she wouldn't waste it on following a Quidditch team around. That was just too much waste on such a brilliant mind.

"I will have to tell him I am going out of town then," Hermione grimaced. "Perhaps I will tell him that I am going to Australia in hopes of finding my parents."

Minerva frowned. This girl deserved closure. She deserved to actually be in Australia, looking for her parents, reversing the memory charm on their minds. She deserved to be happy, after spending six tiring months of fighting on the behalf of Severus Snape.

"If you would rather be in Australia, Miss - "

"No, no," Hermione assured "there will be time for that after the potion. They will still be... wherever they are... in two weeks. Professor Snape will not."

Minerva nodded her head. They would do what needed to be done.

XX

The door was partly open, letting a waft of the potion's scent wind through her office. It had already been seven days and the potion was near the second stage. Minerva peaked into the small room doubling as a potions laboratory. Hermione looked so tired, slouching over the cauldron, stirring slowly. It had taken nearly four days to gather up all of the ingredients alone. Miss Granger had to go to an apothecary in South America even for some of the more rare ingredients.

Inwardly, Minerva knew she was asking too much of the girl. But somehow she knew that Hermione needed this just as much as she did. How could they live, knowing there was something they could do be done while they did nothing? She could only hope that this would work, because if the potion failed, she didn't know what that would do to Miss Granger.

A/N:Well there you have it. Chapter One. I have this story over half way done already and will be posting a chapter once a week. Reviews are appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The usual disclaimer applies.

Chapter Two

Hermione collapsed onto the bed, completely exhausted. She had just got back from procuring ingredients from South America and did not like the flip flops her stomach made after making such a large apparation. Ron lied beside her, snoring softly. They were practically living together these days. He didn't like staying at the Burrow longer than necessary. After losing a son, Molly Weasley was more protective than ever, if that was even possible. It was understandable, her mourning, really. But Ron didn't want much to do with it. He was just as upset at everyone else about Fred's death, but had decided to bury it all under Quidditch.

Quidditch this, and Quidditch that. It was really starting to get on Hermione's nerves. She had thought that telling Ron she was going to Australia would be hard. Had thought that he would insist on going with her. Instead he regrettably informed her that there was practice all next week and he wouldn't be able to, but that he hoped everything went well.

In truth, she was relieved he hadn't insisted, because she never was a very good liar. And she did feel as though his well wishes were sincere, and she needed all the support she could get. Because, to be honest, she was scared. Terribly scared that upon removing the memory charm, her parents, specifically her mother, would hate her. They didn't understand before, and she didn't think they would understand after. She was procrastinating going to them. She knew they were happy. She had checked on them soon after the war.

But would they be happy after? Would they shut her out of their lives forever?

The trial had served as a good distraction from what needed to be done in Australia. Really, she was worried about what would happen after the trial; how she could put it off any longer with a clear conscience? Then Professor McGonagall had given her a new task, giving her another two weeks before she could worry again about the inevitable. Oh, she hoped all would be sunshine and roses after she gave them back their memories. She hoped they would understand why she did what she did, but if someone had done that to her to keep her safe from the war, would she understand? Probably not. But now, she had something else to focus on. More like _someone_ else.

Tomorrow she would start the potion.

She had spent a good hour in denial after leaving the headmistress' office. Looking over the instructions for the potion, she knew it would be extremely difficult to brew correctly. She had been wonderful at potions in school, but she knew that that was not the sole criteria to become a potions master. Professor Snape was the youngest one in a century, and he would be the first one to tell her that she was far from breaking any records. Wasting no time, she had tried to look up the other potions masters available, thinking that maybe she could enlist in another's help. Harry was quick to remind her that it would require her telling them exactly why she needed it.

No matter what angle she looked at it, Severus Snape's life depended on her, and that was a scary thought. Almost as frightful as when his trial rested on her shoulders. Poor Snape, caught in the loophole of the Wizengamont. Not dead enough to escape trial, and not alive enough to defend himself. Although, in the end Harry was probably right, it was the coma that freed him in the end. They would not have been so quick to acquit if they thought he would wake up. If they had thought that they would have probably never seen reason. What harm could it be to call him a hero if he was never going to be around to show any differently?

It was all a big circle. If he was alive he would be guilty, but since he was not really alive he wouldn't be able to enjoy the verdict anyway. But if he was alive for the verdict he would be guilty.

She was getting a headache.

XX

Hermione woke up not at all refreshed. She had tossed and turned all night, thinking about the potion and what she needed to do the next day. Half way through the night she even had to beat off some of Ron's advances. Why he always ended up trying to grope her in the middle of the night she would never understand. Waking up to a rough hand trying to make its way up your nightshirt was not very romantic. Not that Ron was the romantic sort. Sure he had brought her flowers on her birthday. He even wrote her a nice note to go with it, but that wasn't the sort of romance she was talking about.

Then again, what did she know about romance? It wasn't very practical to sit around thinking about it anyway. What she needed to think about was how she was going to manage skiving off for the day before she was even supposed to be "leaving for Australia". Sometimes she thought about how much easier it would be if he hadn't taken over her flat. It was her home, she paid the rent, did the cleaning. And yet somehow she kept finding that more and more drawers were taken up by his clothing, and more and more of that clothing ended up in her laundry bag to clean.

She had missed the "should we move in together?" talk. It somehow, slowly, just... happened. Most days she didn't mind it at all. She liked having someone to come home to after a long day at the ministry looking for more and more evidence to prove Professor Snape's innocence. She even had spent one evening going through the contents at Spinner's End, although there wasn't really anything to find. She had spent most of the time too scared thinking of what he would do to her if he found out about her invading his privacy. After telling Ron that though, he had spent an hour begging her to take him there so he could see the private home of the 'greasy bat of the dungeons'.

Oh, how it infuriated her when he talked about Professor Snape that way. If she couldn't get her own boyfriend to respect him, how could she convince the entire wizarding world of his heroism? Most of the time when his name was brought up between them it was in some flaming row. She would tell Ron not to talk about him that way. Ron would say that she was spending more time on a corpse than him. She would go into tears. Ron would apologize...sort of, and then they would both be at it again in a few days.

There was no understanding why Harry could forgive and realize the bravery of what Professor Snape had done and Ron couldn't see it at all. It seemed as though Ron thought that just that fact that he was a complete git was enough to send him to Azkaban.

"Good Morning," Ron smiled, stepping out of the bathroom. He was using the towel to dry off his hair rather than his body and the watery mess that was dripping over the carpet in her bedroom annoyed her more than it probably should have.

"Go get dressed. I'm going to go put a pot of tea on," she said as she slinked past him out the door to the hallway.

"Mind making a couple slices of toast for me?" Ron asked after her and watched the back of her head nod as she continued to make her way to the kitchen. Ron smiled; it normally wasn't the back of her head that he watched as she left a room.

XX

"I am leaving for Australia today," she declared as she watched Ron take a large bite of his toast, while reading the Daily Prophet. Even six months after the war there was still something about one of them in it on daily basis. Today's front page article read "_Verdict All for Naught: St. Mungo's Issues DNR_". Under the headline there was a very bleak picture of Severus Snape lying in the hospital bead. She couldn't help but think that he would be furious to see himself in the paper.

"I thought you weren't going for another four days?" Ron asked, furrowing his brow at her. In fact, she _had _told him that she wouldn't leave until Tuesday, but she hadn't realized how much easier it would be to explain a longer trip than to continually be MIA for the days leading up to it. She knew that this was by far the easier route.

"I wasn't..." she started, carefully forming the lie in her head. "But then I thought about how long it might take me to find them, since they're living in a RV and all. Plus the time to actually reverse the charm, and then who knows what their reaction will be... And I wanted to be back before you left for the tour."

Ron just looked at her, and she thought that for sure he knew she was lying, until he smiled.

"That's brilliant!" He exclaimed, getting up from the table. "Then you can come with me on the tour." He bent down and put a wet kiss on her cheek before turning and pouring himself some more tea.

"Right," Hermione confirmed, knowing that she would rather be trampled by a bunch of hippogryphs than go on a Quidditch tour (and that instinctively Ron should know that too). Not to mention that when she got back from "Australia" she would actually need to go to Australia. How she would explain that one to him she didn't know. Maybe she would not come home till after he left. That way she could go to Australia while he was gone and he would be none the wiser. Oh, how she hated lying.

"Remind me of what an RV is again," Ron asked, pulling a face she saw all too often.

"We've been over this," Hermione sighed, "it's like a car that you can live in."

"Right, right," he nodded, "I remember." Hermione got up out of her chair and placed her finished cup of tea on the counter beside the sink.

"I'm going to go pack," she informed him, "and then be on my way."

"Alright," Ron called to her retreating form, and then mumbled, "not even a goodbye kiss, I see."

XX

Hermione stood in the small room Minerva had cleared out for her. It was a storage closet at one point, she was sure. At one point she even thought she saw an unwrapped lemon drop covered in lint. It wasn't the most ideal place for potion making, but it would do. Slowly she placed the cauldron on the small wooden table in front of her. Beside it she placed the book, opened to page 86. She would have to follow it word for word if she was to brew correctly.

Her hands shook as she pulled out the ingredients. It was so important for her to get everything done right, and it scared her to death. Even slicing the willow root just a millimetre to thick would be the whole potion's undoing. Her breakfast threatened to come up.

"This won't do," she muttered to herself. She couldn't be a bundle of nerves while working on this potion, which was bound to make her mess up. Reaching into her bag, she brought out a calming draught. She had known she would need it at some point, but was disappointed by the fact she couldn't even start without it. Taking a deep breath, Hermione put the metal cutting board into place and began to dice the gillyweed. Her vision narrowed and she soon became engrossed in the task at hand. This is what she was meant for. She hadn't brewed a potion since before the last battle, and the familiar feeling was reassuring. She still regretted not being able to complete her final year at Hogwarts, and despite the fact that she received honorary grades that allowed her to continue a secondary education, she still didn't feel complete.

Professor McGonagall had suggested doing an apprenticeship in the castle a few months ago, but she was too caught up in the trial to even consider it. Now that the trial was over, she would have to figure out what she was going to do. First she would have to finish the potion, and go to her parents though. There would probably be at least a month until she could actually pursue any additional education. Factor in any applications, waiting for acceptance and then having to wait for a spot to open up...it could be another year before she even saw the inside of a classroom again.

Harry had it all figured out, himself. He was training to be an Auror. They had offered to let him skip the training, but Harry had hated that idea even more than the suggestion of him joining a Quidditch team. He had said that he couldn't ever see himself doing something so...trivial. When there were people casting unforgivables in the world, who could dedicate themselves to professional Quidditch?

Of course, no one had said that to Ron. No one could blame him for joining the Chudley Cannons. Even Hermione wanted nothing more to do with "fighting crime". She could see herself brewing potions to heal those in St. Mungo's or teaching or even becoming a mediwitch. But she didn't want to hunt down the last of the remaining Death Eaters.

She had watched the trials take place. She wanted to see exactly what she would be up against when it came time for her to act as the defence for the case of Professor Snape. Most of the Death Eaters had been present for their trials. Just as most did not have anyone but themselves for their defence. Not many people wanted to defend a known Death Eater. Some were paid just enough for their moral standing to go by the way side. She had been told that Lucius Malfoy had paid over 100 000 galleons to get a defence attorney. There were others, however, that were not there for their trial. Many of the Death Eaters had disappeared after the final battle, and it was unknown whether they were hidden somewhere among them or had sought refuge in other countries.

The Wizengamont saw no reason to hold off their trials and put a price over their head. If they chose not to come and defend themselves at their trial, then that was their problem. It still didn't explain why they thought it would be best to try Severus Snape while he was still in a coma. But there was no reason to dwell on that now; she had done enough foot stomping at the time. Besides that, if they had decided him guilty, what would they have done? Sentenced his comatose body to Azkaban? The whole thing was ridiculous.

The armadillo bile began to simmer in the cauldron and Hermione poured in the Echinacea purpurea. '_So far so good,' _she thought to herself and wiped her forehead on her sleeve. It was now well past dinnertime and she was hungry. The potion would have to simmer now until 11:13 am the next day, and she could now allow herself some rest. When she exited the room, she saw the headmistress sitting in her chair looking over a few scrolls. The edges of her eyes were pinched behind her glasses and her mouth was pursed tightly. In the corner of the room there was a small table with an obviously hot plate of supper. As she got closer she saw that there was even a full glass of pumpkin juice waiting for her.

"I thought you might be hungry," Minerva smiled as she saw Hermione cross the room. "Roast beef and mashed potatoes," she stated the obvious as Hermione sat down to the plate in front of her.

"Thank-you," She replied softly and picked up her fork. "I barely noticed the time in there. I can't believe it is already half past eight."

Professor McGonagall nodded and looked back to the paper on her desk. Both sat there in silence for a long time, one eating and the other reading. It wasn't as awkward as it was heavy. Hermione knew what they both were thinking, and yet neither could bring themselves to talk about it. The chance of failure loomed about both their heads, and as the calming draught was losing effect, Hermione was beginning to have a miniature panic attack again. Had she diced the gillyweed correctly? What if she let it simmer too long? Was it supposed to be that exact shade of yellow?

"I am sure everything is doing fine, Miss Granger," Minerva soothed, obviously aware of her insecurities.

"Hopefully," she agreed. "You know, if I could only just consult with a potions master, I –"

"And tell him of your plan to travel into the future, Miss Granger? I am sorry but in order for anyone to endorse that, they would have to know of a worthy cause and as sorry as I am to say it, to most people Severus Snape is not a worthy cause. There is a reason why there has to be an Auror guarding his room at all times." Minerva put her hand up to stop Hermione from speaking. "I know he was proven innocent by the Wizengamont, but that does not mean that others would think his life deserved saving. And even if you could find a potions professor to coach you in the first half of this potion on such short notice, how would you be able to get the same one to assist you in the final half? Or even a different one, in what little time you have? I am afraid that we cannot take that risk."

Hermione shut her mouth, the painful truth she already knew creeping into her chest. She was all alone in brewing this potion, and if she failed Professor Snape would die.

XX

Hermione and Minerva sat comfortably in her study, each reading a different book. It was the end of the second day of brewing and almost 9 o'clock in the evening. She had heard someone enter the headmistress' office sometime during the earlier evening but wanted to wait until they left to come out of her small lab. She knew they could both easily explain away her reason for being there, but something in her wanted to keep anyone from knowing she was there. She didn't want any lose ends somehow getting back to Ron. Once they left and she had come out, the headmistress invited her to tea in which they both had drifted into a comfortable silence.

Professor McGonagall huffed at the pages of her book for the tenth time that evening, causing Hermione to look up from her book. Her glasses were on the tip of her nose as she read, although you could tell by the tightness in her face that she wasn't actually reading.

"Something wrong, Professor?" Hermione asked, knowing that it wasn't in her place to even ask that question. Minerva put down her book at looked through her glasses at Hermione. After a small pause in which Hermione could tell she was debating whether to say anything, she spoke.

"If you must know," she began, "I am completely frustrated with the new Transfiguration professor. There weren't many applicants to choose from, and she is just completely..."Minerva pursed her lips, unable to come up with quite the right descriptor for her new employee. "She comes in here, requesting the seventh year syllabus be changed and when I ask her why, she says it is because it is too hard. Apparently she can't do half the spells herself. How can I have a teacher that doesn't know how even do NEWT level transfigurations? Sure, I could go back to teaching myself – but there isn't even a possibility of me being the Head of Howards as well as the Transfiguration teacher." Minerva sighed.

There certainly was an issue with finding professors to hire. Most that qualified wanted nothing to do with teaching in the school that was still being rebuilt from shambles. The front doors even had yet to be put back on which meant for a rather cool breeze when walking down the first floor corridors. Luckily, most of the already established teachers were happy to return for the following year. The headmistress was doing her best to return the school to its former glory, but they all knew that it would be a slow process.

Hermione didn't know what to say to Professor McGonagall. What could she say? She didn't have any experience to give advice from, and she certainly didn't know how to help her find a better teacher. So all she did was nod, and give a small, quirked smile. Thankfully, Minerva seemed to understand and they both went back to reading their respective literature. Tomorrow would be another long day, and she didn't even want to think about Tuesday.

Tuesday she would have to go into the future. Professor McGonagall had emphasized how important it was for her not to be seen by anyone. How serious it was that she go straight to her office and not speak to or be noticed by anyone. Although she would be using the time turner from the headmistress' office, neither of them had gone forward in time before and were completely unsure of where she would end up appearing. For that reason, Harry had let her borrow his invisibility cloak. If all went well, she would live in the headmistress' quarters for those five days, while finishing the brewing and then use the time turner to return to her time. No one would be the wiser.

At least that is what she hoped.

XX

Monday had come and gone in relative ease. Hermione had spent most of the morning reading, periodically stirring the potion and lowering the temperature. All of the ingredients had been added, except of course for the mandrake root, which would need to be added on the final day. Most of the day was spent monitoring, slowly lowering the temperature until she would put it in the stasis charm at 6:13 am the next morning. Then she would find herself travelling through time.

Time travel itself didn't bother her, much. She had done it many times in her third year, even though it was only to the past for short distances in time. The part that bothered her more was the man lying in a bed over in St. Mungo's. She had thought about looking him up once she got into the future. See if she would be successful in reviving him. Surely, if she knew that, she would be able to be more at ease while doing the final incantations for the potion. But she knew she couldn't, that she wouldn't do something so obviously against all time rules.

She was more ethical than that.

XX

Hermione stood in the study. She had the invisibility cloak around her shoulders and the time turner in her hands. Minerva stood in front of her, attempting to mask the small tremors in her hands. It did nothing to still the heavy beating of her heart. The potion had been put in stasis encased in a freezing charm. Hermione was positive it would hold throughout the five years, but it did take quite a bit more effort than a normal stasis charm.

"Now, you will need to turn it clockwise away from your person a total of sixty times, once for every month forward. Once you cease turning it, you will be propelled forward into time. Remember, when you arrive there, it is imperative you go straight to my office."

Hermione nodded and gripped the time turner in her sweaty palms. Neither seemed to know what to say next, so she pulled the hood of the cloak over her head and began to rotate the device slowly. She knew how important it was that she didn't tilt it slightly to the left or right as she turned it. Losing track of the number of turns could also prove fatal to the potion...and in turn, Professor Snape. Why did everything come down to her getting it perfect?

Fifty eight...Fifty nine... Sixty...

Hermione's hands stilled and she watched at the sand settled. Suddenly she was being hurtled. It felt like she had been punched in the stomach and pushed down a tunnel all at once, although somewhere in her mind she knew her feet never left solid ground. It had all happened so fast, that when everything stopped spinning she didn't even have time to take in her surroundings. Her stomach was in knots and there was no way for her to stop herself from losing her lunch.

Lurching forward, she quickly made it to the closest garbage receptacle and began to throw up. The invisibility cloak was forgotten somewhere in the hallway, where she had appeared. It didn't seem to register that she hadn't even lasted a minute in this new time before deviating from the plan. Hermione stood slowly and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She didn't remember Hogwarts having garbage cans in the hallways, but was glad for whoever decided that that needed to be rectified. Perhaps it had something to do with the Restore Hogwarts Project.

It was then that she realized that she was visible, in the middle of the school's corridor where anyone could stumble upon her.

"I believe you could use some of this," said a silky voice behind her, making her breath hitch.

She spun around to look into the eyes of Severus Snape.

XX

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will have the next one up in a week. I appreciate all and any reviews; it really helps inspire me to write! Until next week!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The usual disclaimer applies. I should also note that I do like to have a week between posts, but just could not wait to post this one. I hope you like it and look forward to your reviews!

I didn't make you wait all that long, and that deserves rewarding, right? Right?

Chapter Three

It took a moment for Hermione to register just what was happening. She had ruined everything within moments of entering the future. Of course, inwardly she wanted to jump up and down. He was alive. He would live. She would finish brewing the potion, Professor Snape would wake up and he would continue to live his life. This is what she had wanted to know, of course, but she didn't have to go searching for it, instead she had stumbled upon it.

"Are you going to take it, or not?" Snape drawled, trying once again to hand her the small vial of potion.

"Wh-what is it?" She stuttered.

"A stomach calming draught, of course, " he smirked, "are the hormones affecting your sense as well?"

His words caused her to do a double take. Did Professor Snape make a comment on her hormones? Had she really just heard him say that he was giving her a potion to _help _her?

"Excuse me?" she squeaked, unable to say anything else.

He just looked down the hallway and then back to her, seeing her obvious hesitation to take the potion.

"Don't worry, the potion is safe to take in your condition," he reassured. After a minute Hermione realized that he expected her to drink it right there, right then, so she unstoppered it and quickly gulped it down. She wanted to ask 'what condition?' but knew that asking would somehow go against the rules of what she could and could not do while in the future. Which reminded her of the first rule.

"I have to go see Professor McGonagall," she announced, and then grimaced inwardly. What if Professor McGonagall was no longer at Hogwarts? Had she already blown her cover? She hoped that if she sounded convincing enough he would stop staring at her so intently and let her leave.

"I suppose Minerva won't be expecting you home so soon either," he remarked. "Why _are_ you home so soon? Did your parents not take the news very well?"

Hermione's ears rang. Home? Her parents? News? Her tongue burned with so many unanswered questions she didn't know where to start. Professor Snape seemed to take her silence as confirmation however and continued to speak.

"Perhaps if I were to go and explain. I know your parents don't... care for me, Hermione, but maybe I could do something..."

There were too many things to analyze in what he had just said, but above all her name echoed around her. She had to get out of there, she had to get away from the temptation of asking a hundred questions and giving everything away, of ruining everything.

"Yes, well, Minerva asked me to see her as soon as I returned," she sputtered, straightening her back and making ready to make a break for it.

"Alright," he conceded, "But make sure to find me before lunch. I have no classes then, and Minerva has your class covered for another three days yet." He smiled, well, as close as Severus Snape could possibly come to a smile, and reached his arm around her before planting a quick kiss on her lips.

It was too quick for Hermione to even realize what was happening before it happened. His lips were firm and soft all at the same time. At least that's what she thought during the millisecond it had lasted. That thought was quickly proceeded by the thought that this man had no right to be bringing his lips anywhere near her, and his hand rested a little too low on her hip to be considered platonic.

"Professor Snape!" she cried, her eyes wide.

Snape chuckled. "Professor Snape!" he mocked in return before he gave her rear a small squeeze and began to walk towards his classroom. "Remember, before lunch," he called before turning down a side corridor.

Hermione stood there shocked for the entirety of three minutes before she remembered where and more importantly _when _she was. Quickly casting her eyes about the hallway floor she found the cloak cast into the corner and picked it up. She quickly put it on and made her way to the headmistress' office, making sure to cast a silencing charm on the squeak of her shoes.

She tried to push all her questions down into a forgotten part of her, but they just kept resurfacing. She had a feeling that what happened in the hallway just then was not the first time, and Professor Snape seemed to think she would like it.

XX

Minerva opened the door and quickly rushed Hermione into her office. It had been five long years since she had put the plan in motion and now she knew it would take a turn she had never expected. Hermione sat down in the chair and looked up expectantly at the headmistress. She knew she would have questions, based on what the Hermione of her time had told her. That Hermione also happened to be happily sequestered away in Australia, taking an extended holiday with her parents.

"I understand you have questions," Minerva began.

"It's okay, Professor, I know that I am not to know about what happens in the future. I understand you can't tell me what's happening."

"You seem to think I should tell you," Professor McGonagall grinned. Hermione looked up at her, obviously very confused.

"But I just said – "

"I know what you are saying now," Minerva explained, "But that isn't what you, that is, the future you, has to say about that matter. She seems to think there is a lot you need to know, and do."

Hermione was speechless.

"You...Well, Hermione, I mean... Future Hermione is in Australia right now visiting her... your parents. She has decided to stay there for as long as you're here which seems like a perfectly good idea seeing as I don't think it is ideal to have two of you prancing around Hogwarts."

"But, I thought I was to stay in your office at all times?" Hermione questioned, her mind spinning. Why would she want herself to go around acting as her future self in Hogwarts during this time? She might as well not think about it because all it was doing was giving her a headache.

"She...You seem to think that a lot was, set in motion, as it were, during your stay here. As I have no foresight to say otherwise, I will have to trust you...her on the matter," Minerva stumbled through her explanation. It seemed she was having just as much trouble as Hermione sorting through just exactly what was happening. "So, starting today you will be acting as your future self. I suppose you can probably get away with keeping the substitute for your Transfiguration class during your stay. People will just chalk it up to your morning sickness."

"Mm-m-morning sickness?" Hermione stuttered, ironically feeling quite ill.

"Yes, it does seem that you have a lot to catch up on, doesn't it?" Minerva gave a small smile and patted Hermione on the back of her hand. "Right now you are currently pregnant. You are the Transfiguration professor for the school and are the Gryffindor head of house. You have just arrived back from a trip to Australia in which you informed your parents of the pregnancy."

Hermione nodded slowly, trying to absorb such large things into her world view. She was pregnant. She would one day become a teacher at Hogwarts. She would regain a relationship with her parents.

Wait, _PREGNANT?_

She refrained from hyperventilating. She looked around the room, as if it would tell her why and how she became pregnant. Her wide eyes met the kind sparkle of Minerva's.

"I know it is a lot to digest," Minerva started to reassure, but couldn't quite find the right way to say the final blow.

"Just tell me it's Ron's baby," Hermione pleaded, somehow knowing that it definitely was not his baby.

"Ronald Weasley?" Minerva asked, quirking her eyebrow. She had almost forgotten about them even dating. Hadn't they broken up before she came into the future? Her memory must have been failing her.

Hermione just continued to sit there, getting paler by the second. She was going to be sick...again.

Remembering something, Professor McGonagall reached into her desk drawer and pulled out something small and shiny. Delicately she placed in on the desk before Hermione. It was a beautiful jewel incrusted band that she had never seen before. Curiously, she looked up at the headmistress.

"Your wedding ring," Minerva explained, "You seemed to think that it wouldn't do walking around without it."

Hermione didn't feel she had the right to feel shocked. If she was pregnant, she could only have assumed she would have been married. The memory of meeting Snape in the hallway slowly bubbled up in her mind, and her stomach dropped. Either he was her husband, or he had knowingly harassed another man's wife. Or she was cheating on her husband with him... Somehow that thought was worse than the idea that she was married to him. She looked at McGonagall expectantly, unable to voice the question that needed to be answered.

"You are married to Severus. Have been for a while now, and although the pregnancy came as a bit of a surprise for both of you, I think he is handling it quite well." There, it had been said. While Minerva wasn't against the two of them being together, she couldn't help but think about what a shock this would be to the girl from five years in the past. Although she knew Hermione was completely respectful to the man, she also knew that she in no way had considered him 'husband material'.

"I...I think I knew that," Hermione groaned, "about being with him, I mean."

Minerva almost gasped. "Don't tell me you were harbouring feelings for him even then?" Not that there would be a problem with that, Minerva had added to herself. It hadn't mattered much when the two of them had realized their feelings for one another, however it would maybe explain a few things.

"No!" Hermione close to shouted. "I just...ran into him in the hallway, sort of. He... wasn't quite acting the way... I would imagine Professor Snape to act."

An urge to giggle was repressed by the headmistress. She couldn't have imagined how shocking it would be to suddenly be the recipient of Severus' affection. Which reminded her...

"It would be best to call him 'Severus' from now on," Professor McGonagall advised, "it might be more than a little confusing why you are suddenly calling him 'Professor Snape' again... Same goes for all of the other professors here."

Hermione put her head in her hands. It was more than difficult to even picture how her life would turn out this way. How could she end up marrying her former potions professor? She stood up abruptly, turning toward the door that would lead to the Somnum Inagitatus potion. She would need to start prepping the mandrake root to add to the potion. And yes, it would prove to be just the distraction she needed from all of the...revelations of the day.

"What if he wonders why I am acting oddly?" she asked. There would obviously be incongruities throughout any interactions they had. After all, she had no idea what had gone on between them over the last five years.

"If he thinks you are acting strangely, blame it on your hormones," Minerva chuckled.

'_Are the hormone's affecting your mind as well?' _echoed in Hermione's head. It was probably safe to say that he hadn't associated with many pregnant women in the past. He probably wouldn't know what was to be expected of a pregnant woman and what not. Not remembering exactly what he got her for their anniversary could easily be explained away by how tired she felt. Not that he had gotten her anything anyway. He didn't seem like the gift giving type. Unless you counted a huge shot of insecurity a gift.

Her thoughts seemed to be getting away from her.

"I will let you get to it." Minerva stood up and motioned towards the door. "I will expect you to be at the Great Hall for supper, promptly at six," she informed. "You should be done brewing by then, yes?"

Hermione nodded and started walking towards the door, pulling on the handle a little more roughly than usual. Why her future self would want her to play her future self in the future...no, it really wouldn't do to think about it; her headache was practically yelling at her to stop.

"Oh, and you wanted me to remind you of your 11 o' clock meeting this afternoon," Minerva interjected, then added, "I have no idea what it could be, but you said that you would understand."

Hermione groaned inwardly. The last thing she wanted to be reminded of was how Professor Snape...no, Severus has requested for her to meet him before lunch. How was she going to look at him now that she knew everything? She could tell him that she was too busy brewing a potion, but she didn't want to hint towards what she was doing in the slightest. What if she somehow gave herself away?

Besides that, she could easily chop up the mandrake root, add it to the potion and bring it to simmer in more than enough time to get to the dungeons. Then, after lunch, she would put the potion back into the stasis spell for another four days. After those four days she would need to remove the stasis and recite the incantation exactly. She supposed she should be grateful that she wouldn't have to spend those four uneventful days sitting around Professor McGonagall's quarters, obsessing over whether or not the potion would be successful. Oh, she knew that it must work, considering the living, breathing proof lurking the dungeons. But, a small part of her knew that she could still screw this future up.

And although she didn't want to be married to him... She would not rather him dead.

XX

After chopping up the last of the mandrake root she scraped it off the wooden cutting board into the cauldron. It was important for the cutting board to be wooden, as to soak up all the excess juices. Too much of that and the potion would become too thin, and inevitably ruined. Once again she wished that she could ask for the potion master's advice, to make sure she was doing everything correctly. Her being successful in the potion would be just short of a miracle, and the idea that she would brew it correctly made her heart lighter.

She stared intently at the potion, waiting for it to come to a slow simmer. The rolling of the liquid was almost mesmerising and created a short reprieve from the endless analyzing she found herself doing about the moment in the hallway with her former professor. She had come to the conclusion that he had seemed almost... content. He hadn't insulted her, really, and he had a tiny bit of actual concern written on his face when he had first come upon her throwing up.

After feeling satisfied with the potion's progress Hermione muttered the required spell quickly and headed out of the makeshift lab. It had been obvious when she first entered that the headmistress had asked a house elf to keep the room clean and ready for her return. There hadn't been a speck of dust anywhere. Thankfully, you could also tell that the house elf had not even dared to touch the cauldron. If he had, Hermione didn't know that her charms cast five years ago would have held.

She quickly made her way to the bathroom and washed her hands. In the mirror she could see that her hair was even more dishevelled than usual, and her face abnormally pale. It appeared that time travel did not sit with her well. She could still feel the sensation of time spinning around her as it had hours ago, and was already dreading to do it again, upon her return.

Standing up straight, Hermione pulled and smoothed down her robes hoping to lose some of the wrinkles that had come about during her time working on the potion. She would have to be down in the dungeons in just over fifteen minutes and she didn't want to look... Well she didn't want him to be able to detect the scent of mandrake root on her person, or notice the telltale signs of working on a potion for hours. What those signs were, she didn't know, but she had a feeling that he could probably take one look at her and know exactly what she had been doing that morning.

Which of course he could, given the fact that he was a Legilimens. Hermione wanted to hide in the next room. How on earth would she be able to pull off this rouse when the very man she was trying to fool could read her mind just by looking into her eyes. She could try avoiding eye contact during her stay, but that would probably cause even more suspicion. She would just have to trust that he wouldn't try to invade her mind, or that her future self knew what she was doing.

It was apparent that she must know, however, considering that she was in her place five years ago. Hermione never had to trust herself so wholeheartedly before, and it worried her. Had it not been for her future self's meddling, she would be reading somewhere happily in Minerva's sitting room. She would vow to make herself pay for this but that seemed entirely un-recommended. She would have to settle with getting through the next four days as quickly as possible and then letting it be in her past... future... whatever it was, she just needed to get away from it.

XX

As she made her way into the dungeons she realized that she had no idea where to meet her professor, actually, not her professor any longer, but her husband. '_Nuance_,' she thought to herself. It didn't matter what he was to her at the moment, what mattered was the fact that she had no idea where her own quarters were in this castle and that might seem slightly odd.

Deciding to go to his classroom to meet him, she quickly approached the door and peered in. It seemed that he was concluding his lesson and preparing to dismiss the class. When she saw the students begin to get up from their seats and head towards the front to hand in their potion samples she opened the door. The professor looked surprised to see her so soon but quickly masked it behind a blank face aimed towards the mass of students. It was sixth years; Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Most of the students gave her a smile as they filed out of the classroom, and one girl went so far as to mention that it was nice to see her back so soon. Hermione told the girl that she wouldn't be back to teaching her classes until next week and noticed a look of concern cross the professor's face behind her.

"How come?" asked the girl, and then quickly added, "I'm sorry, it's none of my business."

"It's alright," Hermione said and then smiled. "I am just not feeling very well from the pregnancy."

Professor Snape seemed to frown at that. The girl's eyes went wide before she said a quick goodbye and stepped past Hermione into the hallway. She didn't have much time to analyze the girl's response as she was too preoccupied wondering why what she said seemed to have upset the man before her.

'He's worried about me,' she thought to herself, and felt a small ripple of warmth go through her abdomen.

"I thought we weren't going to make that a public announcement so quickly, Hermione," Snape almost growled.

The warmth was gone.

She should have known better than to think he was worried about her when in all actuality he was just pissed.

"I-I- I'm sorry," she stuttered and looked around the classroom for a good exit strategy. Why hadn't the headmistress warned her about the fact that no one knew about the baby? She herself had said that the other professors would explain away her absence due to the pregnancy...

"But all of the other professors knew anyway," she blurted.

"Are you completely thick? We had agreed to let Minerva make to announcement to the students after the hols were over."

She felt hurt, confused and utterly exhausted. She didn't want to play this charade and didn't even know what her future self would do in this situation. How could she begin to analyze herself when she had obviously lost her mind and married _him_. Deciding that to say anything more could make things even worse she just huffed and turned her heal to walk out the door. He had other plans obvious and quickly grabbed her wrist.

"Let go of me," Hermione ground through her teeth, turning her head so he could see just how angry she had become.

Severus let go as if he had been burned and narrowed his eyes at her. Hermione didn't know why the two of them were together, but she could almost guarantee she wasn't happy. She could tell by the steadiness of his eyes that he was infuriated. She couldn't help but stare back, fear creeping into her chest. It wasn't long before she could feel the tentative tendrils slipping into her mind.

"Stop!" she yelled, and before he could do anything she ran out the door. He had tried to use Legilimency on her. It hadn't even been ten minutes and he had already tried to read her mind. How was she supposed to continue this? He obviously didn't trust her, or knew something was off. Deciding that she needed time to think, Hermione wandered the halls until it was time for lunch.

XX

The Great Hall was packed with students. It was obvious that Hogwarts was thriving since the Final Battle. Hermione smiled inwardly, she was glad to see how well everything was doing. In her time, Minerva had been very sad to see that most of the students that should be enrolled were taken out and sent to other schools such as Beauxbatons. It didn't matter if their child spoke French or not, it was better than sending them to the Hogwarts Ruins. Despite the fact that Voldemort had been defeated, there were still many who thought Hogwarts would put their family at risk. There still were Death Eaters on the loose, after all.

Professor McGonagall got up beside Hermione and began to address the students. Hermione shifted slightly in her chair to get a better view of the headmistress. It could have possibly been to block out the man beside her as well. He didn't seem to be as angry as she had expected him to be, but that didn't mean she wanted anything to do with him. She looked up when she heard the hall applause. Everyone was looking at her and the man beside her. She smiled and really wish she was paying attention when Minerva was speaking.

Suddenly there was a brush of lips at her ear and she could feel his breath on her. A chill ran down her spine.

"I asked Minerva to make the announcement this afternoon," Snape explained, sensing her confusion. His voice was low, and silky, and to the students he probably looked no different than if he was issuing potion instructions. When he saw her tense, he sat back in his chair and continued to eat his meal. He didn't even look at her during the rest of lunch, and she somehow felt she had done something to hurt him.

Professor McGonagall sat on her left, however and was able to keep the conversation flowing. She wished that she could just eat in peace, not having to worry about a sudden misstep in what she was saying, but assumed that this was how she usually spent her meals in the Great Hall and didn't want to cause any suspicion or undue attention.

Once she finished eating her meal, Hermione excused herself and stood up. She quickly exited the hall and made her way towards the headmistress' office. She needed to cast the stasis charm on the potion. After that, she didn't know what she would do. Read a book in Minerva's sitting room perhaps? Hopefully McGonagall would be back from lunch by then to grant her access to her rooms. If she didn't, well Hermione ould just sit around and do nothing. Nothing was better than walking the halls and seeing the students smile up at her. She was barely older than the seventh years and felt completely out of place as their professor.

'I wonder if that is how Professor Snape felt when he first returned to Hogwarts as a teacher,' Hermione thought. She shook her head, of course it wasn't how he felt. He probably loved having dominion over all the other students barely years younger than him.

Hermione opened the door to her potion and after making sure everything was to her satisfaction, she began to put it in stasis.

XX

A/N: There you have chapter three. I hope you enjoyed. Please let me know what you think, good, bad, ugly, I want it all! So please, please, please, review!

Did that sounds like begging? I sure hope so.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: The usual disclaimer applies...

Sorry, me again. It seems like I have the posting bug... Please enjoy!

Chapter Four

Severus sat on the couch, looking into the fireplace. The fire was liking the cobblestone of the mantle. It had always manage to soothe him, looking into the flames with a glass of fire whiskey in one hand and a book in the other. It didn't matter that he hadn't managed to read any of it, just the weight of it calmed him. He would like to think that there wasn't a problem, but that would just be masking the issue at hand. He had never been one to shy away from confrontation, even welcomed it with open arms. If there was a prize for being the most blunt in any instance, it would go to him.

The waiting was killing him. Would Hermione come home tonight? He didn't know what she would do after the stunt he pulled in the classroom. He had promised not to use Legilimency on her since that day close to five years ago. Being a man of his word, Severus had never thought he would break that trust. Sure, it had been tempting many times before. He would ask her what she was doing at Diagon Alley so late that evening and she would reply with a coy 'oh, nothing'. The thoughts would almost consume him until he was surprised with an early birthday gift, or presented with a text he had been searching for.

He hated surprises.

In effect, that is why he was interested in Legilimency in the first place. Being able to know exactly what someone thought, what they had done or planned to do. He would never have to feel uncertain of another's motives again if he didn't want to. But then Hermione came a long, and she wouldn't have it. She had always said that by doing so he would break her trust. He felt so foolish, letting himself get so carried away and seeking entrance into her mind. What would she think, now? Would she see what everyone else saw?

Inside he knew that she would still be with him for another six months at least, as that was when her younger self had gone into the future and found them to be very much together. That didn't stop the roiling of his stomach, however. There was too much unknown about time travel. Just because it is the future she saw in the past did not mean that it was what the future would be. Of course things could change, it wasn't as if there were such things as fate. He had given up on thoughts like that long ago.

It had been his fate to die.

If it was up to fate, he would be dead, not sitting on his settee with a glass of fire whisky, thinking about the course of his future. A future with a beautiful young wife, even. She had saved him. Oh, maybe not in the literal sense, but he couldn't help but think that if it wasn't for her... He would be dead.

Or worse, rotting away in some cell in Azkaban, wishing for death. Or maybe neither. Possibly he would be sitting in his living room in Spinner's end, never knowing happiness.

Was he happy? Yes, in the deep down with sneer on the outside kind of way. It was her that could see past the sarcasm and dry humour to the man he was, and even though he wasn't sure he even liked that man himself, she did. She loved him.

"And now she'll hate me," he groaned to himself.

XX

Hermione paced back and forth in the headmistress' office. It was past ten already and the woman had not returned. How in the world was she going to find her rooms without that woman's assistance? Hopefully Professor Snape was used to her pulling late nights in the library, or something, because she wasn't sure how else she would explain her absence. She didn't like thinking about where she would be sleeping that night either.

She could only hope that this was somehow a marriage of convenience, that they slept in separate beds. The fact that she (well the future she) was pregnant put the end to that thought. Besides, what would be convenient about marrying Snape? She knew he didn't have much in the means of money (not that she would ever marry for money) and it wasn't like he was a walking Adonis. Not to mention the fact that knowing herself as she did, she knew she would not marry for anything less than love.

Love? Snape?

The two words were non-simpatico. Of course, she had seen the pensieve memories and knew that he had loved Lily Potter but it didn't seem to translate. She wasn't as naive to think a person could not love more than one person in their lifetime. But it was also apparent that he had never gotten over Lily and she didn't know how he would suddenly get past that. And, she loved Ron, right?

Minerva walked into the office before Hermione could go down that long and winding path of thought, thank goodness.

"Oh, Hermione, hello," she said, smiling despite her surprise. "What are you still doing here?"

"I don't know where my chambers are," Hermione huffed. It was obvious that Headmistress McGonagall had forgotten about her. Did she really expect her just pick up where her future self dropped off? It wasn't like she knew what was happening in this time.

"I just thought you would use the floo from here," Minerva said as she placed a load of paperwork on her desk.

"Well, yes, erm..." Hermione hadn't thought of that option. To be honest, she would have expected Severus to be against the idea of being connected to the floo network. She could hear him saying something to the effect of how he didn't want to be pestered by all sorts of dunderheads while he tried to relax in his home.

Of course she had no idea what he would actually say. She barely knew the man past his scathing remarks in a sixth year classroom.

Hermione picked up a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

"What should I say?" she asked, suddenly realizing she didn't know how to address Snape's quarters.

"Home," Minerva chuckled. She was obviously amused, and that irritated Hermione.

"Home!" Hermione announced. Inwardly she knew that this wasn't the home she wanted to go to.

XX

Coughing out some soot, Hermione stepped out of the fireplace. Severus was sitting on a settee in front of her, slumped down so that his rear barely sat on the edge, his legs spread out on the floor before him and his chin rested on his chest. He snored softly. An empty glass dangled from his fingers, threatening to fall to the floor and she quickly stepped forward to grab it. Placing it on the side table, Hermione looked around at her surroundings.

The sitting room was warm and cozy, very unlike the cold unwelcoming air of Spinner's End. The carpet cushioned her feet, and she restrained from taking off her shoes to feel the fibres beneath her bare feet. From where she stood she could see two doors. One was open, revealing the corner of a bed and a large wardrobe. The other was closed and she couldn't even begin to guess what was behind it.

She walked into the bedroom, curious to what she would find. It was better to get her exploring done before he woke up after all. Not knowing where her pyjamas were stored would probably be suspicious in the least. The bed rested in the middle of the room flanked by two nightstands. When she walked closer, she could see a picture of her parents on the night table and she could only guess that this was her side of the bed. Beside it was a picture of Harry and Ginny with two children in their arms waving happily.

She quickly put the picture down on its face. She was already jeopardizing enough of her own future being there, doing what she was doing, she didn't need to do the same to Harry's. They looked happy though, and that made her glad. After everything Harry had been through in his life, he deserved happiness. Seeing him like that did make her wonder about what was happening with Ron, though. Where was he in this future? Was he happy? She wished she knew if he was happy.

Abandoning that train crash of thought, Hermione walked into the adjoining bathroom. There was a large, deep tub and a stand up shower surrounded by glass beside it. The vanity had a two sinks, with a toiletry cabinet beside each. As she looked into the mirror she expected it to say something to her, but it didn't. It probably should have been obvious that Professor Snape wouldn't want an enchanted mirror in his home.

Our home.

She couldn't help but think that everything around her gave her a slight impression of her tastes. The bed didn't sport a green comforter as she would have imagined, but a deep royal blue – her favourite colour. And there were the pictures of her family and friends. She couldn't help but think that even the carpet was her choice. Not to mention the very large stacks of books against the far wall. Although, there was a very similar bookshelf in Spinner's End.

She opened the wardrobe and saw a large variety of robes hanging. Most were black, some hers but mostly his. There was a large wooden divider between the two hanging rods. On the right were his, and on the left were hers. His took up the entire length of the armoire, and hers hung much higher off the bottom. An arrangement of shoes lined the base underneath her robes.

Upon opening the drawers on the side she found an arrangement of undergarments, most being the practical white she preferred. The lacy red underthings tucked to the side made her blush and she quickly shut the drawer. The one under that was full of nightgowns, including a black silky one she could not see herself wearing any time soon. She couldn't help but think that it reminded her of the one Ron always insisted she wore, and hated. But no, this one seemed different somehow. It was more elegant, she thought, pulling it out of its nesting place. It flowed to the ground, unlike the other one that barely covered her bum. And it didn't plunge down to her belly button either. The neckline was demure, while seeming like it would show off just enough cleavage to not be allowed outside the bedroom. On her anyway. She had seen a few witches in Knockturn Alley with a lot less on.

She put the negligee back into the drawer and opened the next one. Lying there in front of her was Professor Snape's underwear. Professor Snape's _underwear. _She was staring down at it when she was suddenly started by that very man's silky voice.

"Looking for something?" he asked, leaning against the frame of their bedroom door, arms crossed.

"No, nothing," she answered quickly and shut the drawer. "I meant to open my pyjama drawer." She fumbled with her words as she opened up her drawer again and pulled out a pair of muggle sweats and a long tank top. She smiled at the familiarity of them. This is what she had slept in not two nights ago.

She looked up to see Severus staring at her intently. She wracked her brain to figure out what she had done wrong. His eyes did not leave hers and for a second she thought he was going to try Legilimency on her again. She closed her eyes.

"I should not have tried to enter your mind this afternoon," he whispered, lowering his gaze to the floor.

Wait, was he _apologizing?_ This could be the first time she had ever heard a sincere word out of the man's mouth and she took it in greedily. Granted, it wasn't the most eloquent apology. He hadn't even said the words 'I'm sorry', but he had admitted he was wrong and that was something special indeed.

Although who knew what this future man did, for all she knew he apologized daily. She doubted it.

Snape stood very straight, very still, waiting to see what his wife would say to him. Would she tell him she was just there to collect her things? He rarely ever admitted he was wrong, and hoped that by doing so she would understand the guilt he felt.

And he was damn tired of feeling guilty.

Guilt was the feeling that had plagued him most of his adult life. Guilt for the death of Lily Evans. Guilt for the death of Albus. Guilt for living.

It wasn't until he had discovered Hermione that he knew what it was to let all the guilt go. But now he stood there, hoping she would forgive him. Hoping she would still want him. Hoping she would yell at him and tell him to get into bed. Hope was the feeling he had always turned a cold should towards. Now he embraced it.

Hermione didn't know what to say to him. The silence had grown to a point that she didn't feel like a simple 'it's okay' could mend it. Instead she decided to ignore it all together, pretend that nothing had happened. She didn't know what he expected of her, of the future Hermione, and did not want to disappoint.

Which was ironic considering all she had done in her youth was disappoint the man.

"I'm just going to... get ready for bed," she explained before bolting into the bathroom and shutting the door. She had a feeling she would normally not sequester herself away to change into her pyjamas, but could not stomach the thought of changing in front of her professor. 'Husband' she corrected herself. Out there was the man she would marry, would have a baby with, would spend her life with.

The man she would share a bed with. Tonight.

She tried not to hyperventilate. She also tried not to wonder whether it was cheating on your boyfriend to sleep with your future husband. Not that she would _sleep _with him. The thought of his lips on her surfaced in her mind.

"Oh, bugger," she said as she pulled her tank top down over her torso. It was then that she remembered the time turner hanging around her neck. She couldn't go to bed with it dangling just below her collarbone like that. In fact, she couldn't be sure that Snape would not find it no matter where she hid it on her person. What if he tried to grope at her in the night like Ron usually did? The thought made her queasy but she had to stay focused.

Quickly, she opened the lower cabinet under the sink and saw a soap basket sitting behind a few bottles of hair cleansing potion. She grabbed some of the soap out, put the time turner in and returned the soap on top of it. The pile of soap bars concealed it nicely. It was right under the sink, surrounded by hygienic items obviously meant for her use only. She knew he wouldn't be rooting through that stuff, ever.

With that out of the way she pulled open the bathroom door.

XX

He laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. Beside him Hermione was doing her best to pretend to be asleep but he could tell by her breathing that she wasn't. He knew she never slept well when she was angry, and couldn't help but wish she would just let it all out. In fact, her silence was starting to anger him. If she was going to be angry she could at least say so.

"Lumos," he whispered and sat up against the headboard. He grabbed his book off of the nightstand and began to read. He wasn't going to lie awake and wait for her to talk. Besides, he was reading the newest edition of "Potions Practically" and he knew she wouldn't be able to resist asking him about it.

Meanwhile, Hermione lay in bed with her back facing her husband. Not a single part of her body was even in the vicinity of touching him and yet she was more awkward that she had ever felt before. There was just something so... intimate about sharing a bed with this man, and it unnerved her. She tried to pretend it was just Ron lying beside her, but that unnerved her even more. She tried to imagine instead that it was Ginny but the soft masculine humming she would hear every once in a while as she heard a page turn would not allow it.

As the time went on and sleep refused to take over, she wondered what he could be reading. She smiled widely as she thought about Snape sitting in bed reading something like the muggle "Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants". No, she could definitely not see that.

"Now you're not even pretending to sleep," Snape drawled, noticing the smile on her face. He wanted to know what she could possibly be smiling about when she was so angry with him.

She opened one eye and turned her head to peer over at him. "Caught me," she said and rolled onto her other side, facing him.

"What are you reading about?" she asked. Hermione looked over the title and couldn't help feeling like she shouldn't ask about text written in the future.

Severus smiled; he knew that she would not be able to resist.

"It's talking about the use of bezoar instead of nettle in the deflating draught."

Hermione's eyes went wide and she sat up a little, resting on her elbow. "But I thought it needed the nettle to balance," she said, wanting to grab the book out of his hand and devour the text.

"Yes, well," he smirked, "it seems as though they have had some success with it over in Switzerland, and have even been able to use it for more serious conditions."

"Such as?" she prodded. Was he purposefully giving her as little information as possible? Did he know who she actually was?

"About this afternoon," Snape began, ignoring Hermione's request. Inwardly he cursed himself, where had his Slytherin subtlety gone? "I know you're upset..."

Hermione shook her head. Why was he still bringing it up? She didn't think her future self would approve if she flipped out, got into a flaming row and broke up over it. Or maybe she would... Her future self was just as much of a stranger to her as the woman in the Three Broomsticks that always tried to order chicken feet.

"Can we just drop it?" Hermione almost snapped. If she was going to pull any of this off, she might as well act a little annoyed. "I don't want to talk about it." More like she didn't know how to talk about it...

"So when I'm sitting marking essays you want to talk my ear off and when I finally invite you to talk about something you snap shut?" He almost hissed. He was leaning towards her with a look in his eye she could not place.

"You want to talk about it?" She sat up on her knees, trying to bring herself somewhere close to the height he manage even while sitting. "Fine! You're a complete arse!"

"How about saying something I don't already know?" he spat back.

"What you did was inexcusable," she seethed, hoping she was giving him what he expected to hear. "I can't believe you would do that." _'Yes I can," _she thought to herself. She could easily see this man trying to gain access to her mind. It was easier to do that than hold a civil conversation, after all.

Snape's chest tightened. This was the anger he had expected. Had dreaded. He should had felt stupid for bringing it out of her, but it would have come eventually anyway. He couldn't help feeling reminiscent of when he had called Lily... But no, now was not the time to dwell over his every transgression. Now was the time to make amends.

He watched Hermione open her mouth, probably to say something even more scathing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. The words felt foreign to his lips but he welcomed it. He could not let his pride get in the way of something so much more important.

Hermione froze. How hard must it have been for him to say those words? She had a feeling that her future self had missed something very, special, intimate even. It was wrong, stealing this moment from her. The only thing more wrong would be to let him feel his apology was rejected.

So she hugged him.

It wasn't as awkward as she thought it might be. His body was not stiff as she may have expected. His arms enveloped her, his hands bunching up the back of her shirt in his fists. He had welcomed her, his apology seeping between them. He held her softly, firmly... lovingly.

She pulled away, shocked by the emotion she felt. He was looking at her warmly. She had never seen him like this, and she wanted to take a picture of it. She wanted to keep it safe in her pocket. Hidden from her thoughts, but close enough to her heart. It was nonsense, really. She needed to clear her head, sleep, and wake up a little more detached from this moment.

"I think we should go to bed," she said softly.

He nodded and they both lied down on their respective sides of the bed.

"Goodnight, Severus," Hermione whispered, turning her head to look at his once more.

His eyes were steady as he nodded once more. Suddenly he was kissing her again. This time it was more passionate than the previous short kiss in the hall. Her body froze and she tightened her lips together. The thought of make-up sex mocked her in the back of her mind.

Severus drew back, obvious put off by the lack of response he got from his wife. He gave her a look that questioned whether she had really forgiven him, and she could see the shields come back to his eyes.

"I'm just feeling nauseous, is all," she explained. "I don't want to throw up in your mouth," she chuckled. She didn't explain that it was his lips on hers that made her feel that way. She couldn't decided whether it was the act itself, the man who did it, or the betrayal of Ron that made her feel so queasy.

"Are you feeling sick often?" he inquired. "I recall you telling Miss Clark that you won't be teaching your classes for the remainder of the week."

"Yes," she lied. "Minerva was kind enough to give me reprieve. I told her I could just take your potions for it, but she insisted."

"It is probably better that way," he conceded, "You don't want to over exert yourself."

There he was again, caring about her well being.

"Yes, well, I think the first step towards that is getting a good night's rest."

"Very well. Goodnight, Hermione," he sighed and rested on his back.

"Goodnight, Severus," she spoke softly. Her last thought was of his lips on hers, and the strange feeling it had caused.

XX

A/N: There we go! I really, truly, hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. As always, please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Harry sat on the large bench outside the office. It had been a while since he had been asked to wait to see anyone, but the secretary had insisted. Apparently the new Minister for Magic was in the middle of a very important floo call. Harry wasn't one to argue; he didn't mind waiting.

But now it had been close to thirty minutes, and he was getting anxious. He didn't know if his request would be granted, and he would have to pull out all the stops if necessary. He hated having to use his "status" to get his way. In fact, he never did it for that very reason. But this was quite important, and he would do what he needed to do.

"Harry! Come in!" Kingsley called to him, motioning towards his open office. "What a nice surprise!"

Harry smiled in greeting and walked past him through the doorway. The office rivalled the magnificence of even Headmistress McGonagall's and he wondered how much effort they had put into making the effect.

"Like it?" Kingsley asked, rubbing his head with embarrassment. "The public has a lot of ... trust issues... with the Ministry these days and we hope by changing the look of it we will be at least starting the process back to being in everyone's good books."

Of course Harry already knew that; he was at the Ministry almost daily for his Auror training. The amount of construction being done was contending with Hogwarts. To him it was all a large waste of time and money. Who cared if the curtains were red or yellow? Why did they need research panels to tell them that periwinkle was a colour that conveyed security? He could tell by the display of robes lying on the couch off to the side that even those were probably picked out for him daily.

Kingsley could tell that this was not the direction Harry wanted their conversation to be going.

"Take a seat." He motioned towards the chair in front of his desk. Harry complied. Kingsley walked around and sat at his side of the desk.

"So what brings you up here, Harry?" he asked, restraining from patting his back in camaraderie. Harry still hadn't gotten of the whole issue with Snape's trial, even though it wasn't his fault. The Wizengamot had had his hands tied for that one.

"I've come for Snape's memories," Harry stated.

"Oh, Harry," he sighed. "That would take an amount of paperwork I have neither the time nor the inclination to fill out."

"I gave them to you for his trial," Harry explained, "with the expectation they would be returned once it was over."

"Well they are part of evidence, now," Kingsley explained. "I can't just give you evidence from the Death Eater Trials."

"Look," Harry said, "If Snape wakes up he should have his memories with him, and if he doesn't, well neither of us know what really happens after that and I think he should have his memories with him then, too."

Kingsley sighed. Maybe Harry was right about it not being fair keeping Snape's memories from him, but it wasn't going to be easy getting them out of lockup. They were probably packaged up neatly somewhere between a box of convicted Death Eater wands and a bag of masks.

"I'll see what I can do," he relented, "but I can't speak for the Wizengamot. They won't part with that evidence easily."

"They won't have to. Tell me where they are and I will get them myself." Harry stood up from his chair. It was obvious he wasn't playing around.

"Now, now, Harry." He stood up from his chair as well and walked over to the door. He hoped it wasn't apparent that he was standing there as a barricade. "No need to be hasty. I will look into it – hopefully have it figured out in a couple weeks."

"Are you daft?" Harry yelled, "He'll either be dead or awake in less than a week's time. I don't have time for you to play devil's advocate just to look good to everyone else. I don't give a damn what the Wizengamot think of giving Snape his memories back, and I certainly don't care whether the carpet is 'welcoming blue' or 'heart-warming pink'.

"An innocent man's dignity is in question here. The Wizengamot itself announced him innocent. It should be a crime to keep his personal memories locked away like Ministry property. No one needs to know why I came here today, Kingsley. Just tell me where to find them and give me the password. It's not like anyone will notice it missing, and even if they do I will make sure it doesn't get back to you."

"I don't know the password," Kingsley admitted. "Since the attempted break in last week they have changed the password and only Ogden knows it. They have started up a whole new process for the defence attorneys to request evidence for their clients . Besides, there is a guard there at all times. The Wizengamont takes these matters seriously and until all of the Death Eaters are accounted for, the Ministry will always be on guard."

"Where are they kept, Kingsley?" Harry asked, staring down his glasses at him.

"Second floor, just across from the door leading to Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. ."

"That broom cupboard?" Harry asked, more than a little surprised.

"There is a hidden door just behind all the cleaning supplies."

"Thank-you," Harry said, reaching for the door handle.

"Be careful," he said quietly as he watched him leave. He really hoped this didn't come back to him.

XX

Sun was drifting through the high windows in the bedroom. Hermione opened hers eyes and squinted against its rays, stilling her urge to stretch. It didn't take long for her to notice the heavy breathing on her cheek, or the hand cupping her breast.

Snape lied on his side deep in sleep. His nose was pressed against her temple and his ankle crossed with hers. She was frozen in her spot. If she moved she risked waking him up, and if she didn't she risked letting his hand linger much too long. She didn't know she could face him again this early in the morning, with her hair in need of brushing and her bladder in need of relief.

Deciding just to be quick about it, she got up and made her way to the loo. He didn't seem to notice as he rolled over and continued to snore. It made her wonder just how heavy a sleeper this ex-spy was. Old habits did die hard after all.

Once in the bathroom, she quickly emptied her bladder and did her ablutions. She always felt much better once her teeth were cleaned and her hair somewhat tamed. A knock on the door startled here, and before she could answer, it opened. It was no other than Snape, standing there in nothing but his pyjama trousers; his shirt lost somewhere between the bed and the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said. "Care to join me?"

Hermione blushed. Here she was standing in the bathroom with her half naked ex-professor propositioning her. She didn't want to think about how his upper body was pleasing to the eye, and how the speckle of hair scattering along his pale chest made her want to touch it. She definitely did not stare at his bare shoulders and the sinew of his arms. To do so would be to entertain this whole situation, which she had told herself she would not do.

"No, thank you," she replied. "I'm going to go fetch a pot of tea and do some light reading."

Severus chuckled. "Of all the years I have known you, Hermione, I have never knows you to do any 'light' reading."

At that he started to untie the waistband of his trousers and Hermione decided that was the perfect time to make her exit.

XX

Hermione sat in the large beige club chair reading a book she found on the table. It was hard to keep track of where she was on the page as she would constantly drift into thought. It wasn't easy, reading in Snape's living room, knowing it would also be her living room in time.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't hear him walk into the room and come up behind her. She didn't realize his presence until he bent over behind her and pressed his lip against the side of her neck.

"Shall we skip breakfast in the Great Hall?" he asked before going in for another kiss, tasting her neck.

Hermione whirled around.

"And disappoint Minerva?" she squeaked and began to make her way to the door.

"You better hurry, then. Breakfast started ten minutes ago." He sat down in the spot that she occupied moments ago and picked up the book she was reading.

"You're not coming?" she asked. She could feel the relief flooding her.

"I have a class first thing," he replied, "and I have better ways to spend my time than running through the hallways trying to catch a meal."

Hermione nodded and exited the room. The weight she had felt lifted almost immediately. She didn't know how she was going to continue the charade for another four days yet. It was apparent that the Hermione of the future was a sadist... or a masochist... she didn't know which applied to her situation. What did you call a person that liked to make their past self suffer? There was no point in dwelling on it.

She entered the Great Hall huffing and puffing from the quick pace she had made to get there in good time. At first she had found her surroundings a little confusing. How did you get to the great hall from this part of the dungeons, again? It wasn't as if she could back track considering how she had arrived there the night before. And how was she going to get back there? Mentally she kept track of her directions.

Minerva welcomed her to the table and watched as she sat down beside her.

"Will Severus not be joining us this morning?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head and began to pick at her porridge. She hate porridge, always had, and she wished she had not run all this way just to eat porridge.

"Morning sickness?" Madame Hooch asked as she leaned across Severus' empty spot on the table. She had noticed Hermione barely touching her plate.

Hermione just nodded and continued to push the oats around the bowl with a spoon. She would probably need to check on the potion today to make sure nothing terrible had happened to it. That would probably only take her a few minutes, but she was confident that she could stretch it out to at least a few hours. A few welcomed hours of relief. All of this pretending to be herself was making her muscles knot.

After checking on the potion she could return to her rooms. She had checked the schedule sitting on Snape's desk and it showed that he was to be occupied all through the last quarter. She would be able to sit and peruse the large expanse of book littered throughout their home before supper. Then she would be out of the room and back in the Great Hall before he could even return from classes.

She wouldn't think about _after _supper until absolutely necessary.

XX

The potion was fine, of course, and every little corner in the room had already been Scourgified long ago. She had tried hanging out in the room, waiting for the third class of the day to start but Minerva had come in and chastised her for hiding out in her office.

"This is my office and the only person allowed to hide out here is me," she had said, if Hermione had remembered correctly. Followed by, "I have half a mind to change the password until Saturday."

So here Hermione was, wandering the halls just like she had dreaded doing. She even had been forced to take away points from Gryffindor when she had ran into an empty classroom in hopes of hiding away there and found two students snogging in the corner. She didn't consider stumbling into any classroom safe anymore, and she settled with walking around the lesser used corridors.

She probably hadn't gotten this much exercise in weeks. For the past six months she had mostly sat at her desk researching, ate at her table, and slept in her bed. She wasn't surprised when she stepped on the scale and it announced an increase of ten pounds. She figured the only reason why she hadn't gained more than that was due to all the stress she was under.

Because she was under a lot of stress.

First the war, then the trial, then this potion business. And always her parents. It seemed that it was never ending. Then once she was done with all of this she would have her future to think about. That thought gave her pause. Didn't she already know what to do with her future? She would go back home, begin her apprenticeship in Transfiguration and take the position at Hogwarts. Then she would marry Severus Snape and become Hermione Jean Snape. She would have at least one baby with him. She felt cheated somehow, like the decision of her future was taken from her. Transfiguration wasn't even her favourite subject. Charms won over Transfiguration any day.

She supposed she should be grateful that she hadn't come into the future to find she was dead, or the world had come to an end. Oh the justifications she was making, just to make marriage to Snape a little easier to handle.

Suddenly she found herself just outside her rooms, and she stopped. She could try to get in, but she didn't know the passwords and she wasn't so naive to think that Snape wouldn't ward his rooms. She would have to go up to Minerva's office and try and use the floo again. Just as she was about to turn around, she felt a brush against her shoulder and watched as Severus undid the wards.

He tapped the wall with his wand and said, "shrivelfig." The door swung open.

It was obvious that he was in a foul mood. He didn't even glance back at her as he entered the room. She couldn't help but think that this was more like the man she remembered. He robes billowed out behind him as he glided into the room. She didn't know what got into her when she said, "What happened to you?" in the most sarcastic tone possible.

"Third years _happened _to me," he sneered. "The talented," another sneer, "Mr. Abbott has once again melted a cauldron, managed to blow up half the classroom, sent three students to the infirmary and it isn't even past lunch. I had to dismiss the class, send in three house elves to clean and now it's time I took care of this mess on my robes." He pointed to the abundance of green slime spattered on his front before taking his robe off. His white starched shirt also had speckles of green which made him give an angry grunt and remove that as well. Some of the green even leaked through onto his undershirt.

"Damn it all!" he cursed and removed the offending garment. "I'm going to go take a shower."

Severus turned and walked into their bedroom, undoing his belt as he walked. She may have wondered what would happen if she followed him, but ignored it. Instead she wandered over to the closed door beside their room. Upon opening the door she saw that it was completely empty. '_How curious,_' she thought and closed the door once more. Why they would keep a perfectly good room empty made no sense, but she tucked it away and continued on her perusal.

His desk was littered with papers, and although it may have seemed like a complete mess, she could see order in the madness. It was very similar to her desk, just a few steps away. There were stacks of scrolls graded, scrolls to be graded and scrolls to be handed out. She could see a lot of red quill markings on his marked scrolls, and she couldn't help but smile. How many times had she looked at one of her marked essays and seen his red ink scribbled all over the page?

She refrained from snooping, just barely. It had always been important to her to respect other people's privacy, so she walked over to her desk and sat down. She had never been in this room before, never sat at this desk before and yet it seemed familiar somehow. The top was riddled with papers and books that were stacked this way and that. Inside the drawer was unopened ink wells and unused quills. There was a quill already on the desk, lying on top of her papers. The name _Hermione Snape _had been engraved on its casing, and she ran her fingers over it.

_Hermione Snape_

It flowed nicely, really. A lot more eloquent than her given _Hermione Granger_. She had never thought she would have taken her husband's last name. That had been a source of contention between her and Ron a few times when he had brought it up. Having the last name _Weasley_ was not something she had looked forward to. Now she wouldn't have to worry about it any way.

'_Poor Ron,'_ she thought. He was somewhere five years past thinking that she was in Australia, thinking that she would be returning soon and joining him on his Quidditch tournament. Would she break up with him when she got home? Or would she just return to her time and pretend that nothing happened? She wished she had never known what was waiting for her in the future. She didn't want the responsibility of either making it happen despite her own wishes, or changing it altogether and having the fates wanting her head on a silver platter.

But did she believe in fate?

She had always been a sensible girl, didn't believe in divination for the very reason. Had someone predicted this future she would have laughed at them. Right then she made a decision. There would be no trying to hinder the future she saw, nor would she try to facilitate it. If it was really going to be this way, then it would happen on its own – it wouldn't need her to help it through.

Snape came through the door, back into the living room. His hair was still damp from the shower and he was wearing a fresh buttoned up white shirt with a pair of black trousers. She would assume that it was what he usually wore, since she had never really seen beneath his robes in the past. Unless you counted when she would visit him in St. Mungo's. Those times he had been wearing the standard patient garb. Blue and open at the back. Well, she assumed opened at the back anyway. She never rolled him over to check.

That thought made her blush.

"You're not having that Roberts woman marking papers for you as well, are you?" he asked, noticing Hermione sitting at her desk. "I don't think it would be wise. You should hear the drivel that comes out of that woman's mouth."

"She can't be that bad," responded Hermione, feeling the need to defend this woman she didn't even know.

"While you were in Australia she sat beside me in the Great Hall," Snape replied and gave his wife a pointed look. "She started questioning me on the difference between a soup spoon and a dessert spoon. After ignoring her for ten minutes she began to discuss some muggle book she had been reading. Some vampiric romance or something equally as inane. Although I do blame Minerva in sorts, as she did tell the Roberts girl that I am partial to muggle fiction."

"Why did she do that?" Hermione asked, never knowing McGonagall to be one to goad Snape.

"Does she need a reason?" he asked while doing up the buttons on his shirt cuffs. "I suppose it was her turn anyway. I did skip out on Hogsmeade duty last week." Severus smirked. They had been at it for years. Sometimes the stunts were a little more malicious than others, but he enjoyed them all the same. It had never gone too far, as of yet, and Snape found it almost cathartic. She had started it years ago by practically forcing him back to Hogwarts, and he had retaliated by skipping staff meetings and the like. She had taken it a step further then and charmed his favourite quill to sing Christmas carols every time he used it. It had gone back and forth from there, and as childish as it was, it made his time at Hogwarts go by a little faster. "Which reminds me," he said, "do you think you could ask that Weasley boy for some of his Whoppers?"

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was a thriving business in Hogsmeade and he wouldn't be caught dead in it. Thankfully Hermione managed to pick a few things here or there for him to release on Minerva. There was a while when it seemed the shop would be closed, just after The War. George had taken Fred's death harder than anyone, or so he was told. He was too busy being half dead at the time to take notice. There were a lot of deaths that had shocked him upon his wakening, and he didn't like to think back on them.

"Care to have lunch down here?" he asked. He had already sat down in his arm chair and picked up his book.

"Sure," Hermione replied. She didn't know if she was making the right decision to spend more time with him, but she felt somewhat intrigued by him. What was it that made this man tick? He was someone who could say the most horrible thing to the most innocent of students, and yet he delighted in childhood pranks. Delighted maybe wasn't the right word.

The couch welcomed her as she plunked down into it. They both sat there and read in companionable silence. Every once in a while Severus would look up and share an excerpt from his book he found most fascinating, and she would share her thoughts on the matter. She even shared something small from the book she was reading, and felt thrilled by the pure look of interest in his eyes as she spoke. There was something different about this. Something different about sitting here, with this man, and sharing thoughts about potions, or ingredients, or the newest discoveries in Arithmancy.

A house elf brought some sandwiches on a platter but neither of them noticed.

XX

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I am loving the reviews so please keep them coming!


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